


Just You and Me (And My Secret Identity)

by WyrmLivvy



Series: Lex Luthor as a Trans Man AU [3]
Category: Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Future Fic, Gun play, Humor, Identity Porn, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension, Shoe Kink, Snowed In, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4873222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyrmLivvy/pseuds/WyrmLivvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future fic. Lex and Clark are stuck together in a underground shelter. Things go as well as you'd expect.</p><p>EDIT 9/28/15: Chapter 4 is up.</p><p>Also, September 28th is Lex Luthor's birthday in the comics. He was born in 1980 on Smallville, so Happy 35th Birthday Lex Luthor~!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Gravity Pull](https://archiveofourown.org/works/159247) by [Ponderosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponderosa/pseuds/Ponderosa). 



> A remix of/inspired by Ponderosa's fic "Gravity Pull", except with Lex and Clark stuck together instead of Rufus and Elena. Done with permission.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put this as the 3rd part in this universe(re-arranging stuff once again, I thought I was going to update Pulsus but instead here we are) but chronologically this takes place before the canyon scene in Chapter 1 of "What Kind of Man".

“Why are LexCorp employees dismantling this weapons facility?” Clark Kent asked, his pen and notepad at the ready. He was almost walking side by side with Lex Luthor, but he maintained a distance of being one step behind him. 

“As opposed to?” Lex queried. 

“An independent party.”

“None have the capability or expertise to deal with a project of this size and complexity.” Lex answered. “It has to be done by my staff - better than having ignorant outsiders meddle and accidentally set things off.” 

“Hmm.” Clark said, jolting down notes. “But what of your refusal to allow independent certified observers?” 

“That’s not true. I did agree to some, and restricted access to certain areas. Much of the technology and information is sensitive.” 

If Clark had another question it was interrupted by Lex’s customized phone going off. 

“Excuse me.”

Clark nodded and kept silent as Lex accepted the call. 

The carefully neutral expression Lex had while fielding Clark’s questions turned into a deepening frown. 

“There’s intruders.” Lex said.

“Intruders?”

Clark was bewildered as he found himself being herded by Lex’s security team into an elevator. With Lex. 

“What - ” Clark’s feet lost purchase and he splayed to the floor of the elevator as it shot down into the earth.

“We’re to stay in a shelter until there’s an all clear.” Lex said. “Or when they come to retrieve us.” The swift fall of the elevator did not seem to bother him at all. He was leaning against the elevator wall while Clark was trying to get up, desperately gripping the railing. 

The capsule slowed once it neared its stop at the bottom. 

Clark finally managed to get to his feet. He pulled out his own cellphone. 

“Forget it. Any attempts at any communications this deep in the earth is bound to meet with interference.” Lex said. 

Clark lowered his cellphone. “I guess…” he adjusted his glasses. A nervous gesture. “So we’re stuck here…”

“Yes. And you might want to save the battery on that, Kent.” Lex added, gesturing at Clark’s phone. “Who knows how long we’ll be down here?”

Clark reluctantly pressed the button that powered off his phone. 

“Follow me.” Lex said, walking forward and leading the way. 

Clark does. 

They go down a corridor which ended in a room equipped with a heavy set of what Clark recognized as LexCorp patented blast doors. The room was sparse. A sink, a toilet, a bed and a random heap of supply crates. 

Once Clark was in the room with Lex, the doors immediately closed. 

“The doors - ” Clark stammered. 

“Will open once it’s safe to leave.” Lex answered. “There’s nothing to do but wait.” He hauled down one of the crates and sat on it. “Good thing I’m a patient man.” 

—

The lights died. 

“Mr. Luthor?” Clark said in the dark, without the accompany sound of a generator or the air going through the vents. 

There was the sound of shoes on concrete.

“Are you alright?” 

Lex could feel Clark’s breath ghosting over his face, which meant Clark was kneeling nearby. 

Lex doesn’t answer. 

The lights returned from the dead, and once again air circulated. 

He could see now. Clark directly in front of him, his expression worried. 

Lex turned away and looked at his watch. “We’ve been down here for four hours.”

He looked at Clark - at his knees on the concrete. 

“If you’re going to rest, use the bed.” Lex said. “I don’t recommend a crate.” He rolled his neck. 

Clark was still looking at him. Searching for an answer. 

“I’m fine.” Lex said, standing up and walking over to the bed. 

The bed was like the beds they had in college dormitories. Thus, small and short - meant for one person. 

Lex shed his coat and spread it down on the bed, covering a stain that could be seen with the naked eye. 

Lex held out his arms and gestured at it. “Go ahead and nap.” Lex said. “I’ll tell you if anything happens.”

“Why did you do that?” Clark gaped. “It’s dirty, and your coat - there’s blankets!” He ran over to the supply crates and cracked one open. It didn’t appear to take him much effort and the one he picked did have blankets inside. A feat, considering that none of the crates were labeled. 

“So you won’t put into your tell-all memoir about how you were in the bunker of a LexCorp weapons facility with Lex Luthor himself - and that he was a rude host.”

Lex removed his suit jacket as well. “Here’s a pillow.” He said, bundling it up and setting it down on the mattress. He still had on a turtleneck, and a vest. 

Clark eventually managed to close his mouth. He walked over to the bed. With his back turned, he took off his glasses and set them down on a nearby shelf. Clark behaved as if he was about to put himself into a vat of acid but he sighed once his head hit the “pillow”. 

The soft material hugged him and there was the faint scent of cologne. It smelled nice, it smelled like Lex - sandalwood, leather, and spice interspersed with sweat... 

Lex doesn’t miss that Clark put himself face down. His feet noticeably dangled off the edge of the bed. 

“Hey…there’s a switch here.” Clark said, his head turned to face the wall. 

“Why don’t you test it?”

Clark did, and the florescent lights above them went out except for a single dim one. 

He quickly flipped the lights back on. 

“I don’t think what happened earlier was normal.” Clark said. "The lights went out and so did the air…but I think this is really for controlling the lights.” 

“I agree.” Lex said. “Though I can’t believe you so readily flipped the switch without the thought of how risky it could have been to do so. What if it didn’t just control the lights?”

“Why wouldn’t it be a light switch?” Clark said, still facing the wall. “It looks like one and acts like one.”

“You tested it upon my suggestion.” Lex said. “You, who not a day ago, had spent their time grilling me on the motives of my company dismantling its own weapons facility.”

“Well, thank you for giving me actual answers.” Clark said. 

—

Lex worked. Occasionally, he stopped to watch Clark sleep. 

“I’m sorry, Lex.” Clark murmured in his sleep. 

The words startled Lex in the middle of opening a crate. 

“You’re not sorry at all.” Lex mumbled, continuing his work. 

—

“No news?” Clark said when he woke up, facing the wall and fumbling for his glasses before finding and wearing them. 

“No news.” Lex answered. He pointed at several tins and a can opener that he had set aside. “But here’s your meal. I ate while you were asleep.”

“Huh?” Clark was still somewhat groggy. 

“I opened some of the supply crates and sorted through them.” Lex said. “I’m keeping the used cans in one.”

“Oh.” Clark looked at the organized piles Lex had created, and at the empty crates in a corner. He looked at the bottom of the bed. There were also crates underneath his feet. That was why they were no longer dangling. “I’m sorry…while I was sleeping you were doing all this work - how long was I out?” 

“We’re been down here for twelve hours now.” Lex said, his black gloved hands about to open another crate. 

“No - please, I’ll do the rest.” Clark said, clambering out of bed. His legs were entangled in the pathetic excuse for a blanket that he had retrieved from a crate. He fell. There was the sound of cans hitting and rolling the floor as his body scattered the neat piles Lex had created. 

Lex sighed. 

“I’m so, so sorry.” Clark said, checking his glasses for fractures before flailing out his hands to stop the path of several sealed rations. “I’ll fix everything.” 

“Eat first.”

“…Okay.”

Lex climbed onto the bed Clark had left. He took off his dark leather shoes and set them down on the ground, but kept his black silk socks on. 

At the sound of the shoes being dropped on concrete, Clark turned his head. He looked at the shoes. 

“Is there any other drinks, besides water?” Clark asked slowly. 

“Like what?”

“Coffee…or tea?”

Lex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This place wasn’t meant to be comfortable. They were in a blast shelter. Water was good. It meant they wouldn’t die of dehydration but he was asking for coffee beans and tea leaves? “There is. But without hot water it’s useless anyway.”

“Oh. I was thinking it could help keep me awake.” 

“You’ll have to sleep again eventually.” Lex said. 

“I can sleep on the floor.” 

“We’ll sleep in shifts.” Lex said. “You just went to sleep, now it’s my turn.”

“…That works too.”

Lex sat up, back to the wall, his arms crossed. He watched Clark eat. 

“Do you think, that if one of us shouted something - that flying alien would come and get us out of here?” Lex asked. 

“What?” Clark startled, dropping a bunch of tins that he had scooped up in his arms. 

“Superman. Though you’ll have to do the shouting. I refuse to ask that _alien_ to help me with anything.”

“I don’t know. Superman’s a busy _person_.” Clark said, setting down items. “And we’re pretty deep in the earth, if we called, I’m not sure if he’d hear us…”

“I’d like to get my hands on him - ” 

Clark fumbled in the middle of using the can opener. 

“ - to test the extent of his abilities.” Lex said in a tone suggesting it was for his own sinister benefit and not Superman’s. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m good.” Clark said with his head resolutely down as he ate a can of peaches by picking up each piece. Syrup glistened on his fingers. 

“There’s utensils.” Lex said.

“Oh. Where - ?” Clark looked up to notice that Lex was watching him. He adjusted his glasses like he hoped it would be a better barrier to block Lex’s gaze. Unfortunately, he had used the hand he had been eating with, smearing peach syrup on the side of his glasses. 

He stuck his fingers in his mouth and quickly sucked them clean before awkwardly wiping at the syrup on his glasses with his sleeve, not even taking them off. 

“There’s napkins with the utensils.” Lex said, throwing him a packet from one of the crates by the end of the bed. 

Clark caught it. It was, indeed, a sealed packet with a plastic fork, spoon, knife and napkin. 

“Thanks.” He said. He opened it and resumed eating with a fork. The syrup disappointingly remained in the can and he dabbed at any that dripped with the napkin.

Lex changed his position and let his head hit his suit jacket that was currently doubling as a pillow. He turned his back and faced the wall. He closed his eyes. 

—

He woke up to see Clark shaving in front of the mirror by the sink. He thought he saw red light reflected. 

There had been a crate filled with toiletries: toothpaste, toothbrushes, floss, shaving cream and soap. 

Clark stopped self-consciously. 

“Go on, pretend like I’m not in the room.” Lex said. 

“But you are.”

“Pretend I’m still asleep.”

“Um, I’m not used to anyone watching me when I get ready in the mornings.”

Lex shrugged. “There’s nothing else to do.”

Clark continued. 

Lex watched the razor glide over his face. 

“Do you ever cut yourself accidentally while shaving?” Lex asked. 

“…Sometimes.” Clark said. “Do you - uh, I mean - sorry I - ”

“No, I don’t.” Lex said. “I have no reason to. There’s as much hair on my face as there is on my head.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: mentions of dsyphoria

By the fourth day, they agreed to stop sleeping in shifts. With no one else but each other for company it became important for them to be both awake and interacting with each other. 

“Beef jerky and dried mango.” Clark said, putting said items into the pot. 

“This chocolate, caramel candy bar, and dried apple.” Lex said, adding in his items. 

Clark preferred dried apples, while Lex liked dried mango. The jerky was peppered but there were a very limited amount of candy bars. It was a rare item. 

“I surrender.” Clark said, abandoning his cards. 

“A good choice for once.” Lex said, relaxing his poker face. “You’re bad at bluffing - if this continued, you would have no food at all. You’d be dependent upon my generosity, or you’d have to start betting other things.” 

“Yeah.” Clark admitted, looking forlornly between the small pile of rations he had left and the towering stack that was on Lex’s side. His brow furrowed. “What other things?”

“Clothes.” Lex said. “If this continued I could win the shirt off your back.”

Clark paled. “Uh, good thing we’ve stopped then. And I wouldn’t bet my shirt, or pants.”

“Nonessential clothing then?” Lex asked. “For example, my gloves, against your glasses?”

Clark shook his head. "My glasses are essential." 

“My socks against your tie. They’re both made of silk.” Lex said, leaning close to actually curl his hand around Clark’s tie like he wanted to tug it free. 

“I don’t think any of my clothing could match against yours - in material quality or value. And you have like, five more pieces of clothing than me. At least.” Clark said, making a motion to get away or get Lex’s hand off his tie but that was a tough feat considering that Clark was avoiding touching him. “I’m tired, so that’s enough cards.”

That was a mistake to say.

“You’re right.” Lex said, releasing Clark. “It’s time for bed.” 

The problem with deciding to no longer sleep in shifts meant they had to sleep at the same time - and share the bed. 

“You’ve been wearing that suit for four days.” Lex said judgmentally, sitting down on the bed. He had at least changed out of his old clothes. There had been four sets of clothing in the crates, a uniform really - white t-shirt, white long sleeved shirt, black pants…and white boxers. Simple. Each of them had gotten two sets. It basically also had to be pajamas. “Change out of it.”

Lex recalled that after he had changed out of all his layers and into the outfit found in the crates, Clark had stared. Then realized he was staring and guiltily turned away his gaze.

“What is it?” Lex had asked.

Clark had mumbled “your chest” so softly as to not want Lex to actually hear. But Lex had heard. 

“Ah, you haven’t ever seen me without multiple layers on, have you?” Lex had said, waving at the pile of his discarded outfit: black turtleneck, black vest, white dress shirt, purple tie, white suit jacket and white coat. “Wearing fewer layers is not something I do casually around reporters...or anyone. The layers were a habit from before I had top surgery.” 

Layers was what he had relied on so that how his chest looked wouldn’t trip off his dysphoria. The expensive, custom materials were breathable and helped regulate Lex's temperature. It could stop bullets even. No materials regularly found on the market could do that and not cause Lex to suffocate from all the trapped heat. Yes, it was good material and his armor in many ways, but even Lex couldn’t wear it for days on end without changing. 

“Change out of your suit.” Lex repeated. 

“It’s worn in.” Clark said. “I’m comfortable.” 

“I won’t be.” Lex said. “You’re not climbing up here in that suit.” 

“I’m not getting on at all!” Clark said wildly. He pointed at the crates he had arranged into a large rectangle. “I’m sleeping on that.” 

“Any medical complications from sleeping on crates won’t be addressed as long as we’re down here.” Lex said. “And you’ll get splinters.”

“One night won’t kill me.” Clark said, pointedly lying down. 

“Suit yourself.” 

Clark groaned. Either at the pun or the uncomfortable crates. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Lex used the switch by the bed to turn off the lights. 

—

The single light that casted its dim glow was not enough. 

Lex turned on his flashlight and crept out of the bed. 

Clark was sleeping on his back, which made things easier, Lex supposed. He had no blanket except for the one pillowing his head. There were only four and Lex had taken the rest, insisting he needed one for his body, one to cover his feet which stuck out, and one for his head, which he said got cold. 

Lex’s socks muffled better than if it was just his bare feet on the concrete. He frowned. Clark hadn’t even taken off his suit jacket before sleeping. Lex unbuttoned it. Then he worked on the buttons of his dress shirt. 

Lex shone the flashlight on Clark’s chest and spotted…a nipple. He had a well-toned body under his ill-fitting suit actually. Lex had his suits tailored to emphasize his muscles. But Clark was the opposite, wearing suits to hide his physique. 

“What are you doing?” Clark’s eyes were now open and very green. Lex trained his flashlight on them. He had slept with his glasses on. Clark turned his head away, blinking furiously. He was blushing. 

“Checking for hidden candy bars.” Lex said. “You lost pretty badly so I’m wondering if you secretly recovered any from my pile when I wasn’t looking.” 

“I didn’t do anything like - ”

“You could be hiding stuff in your crates. The ones you’re sleeping on.” Lex went to check one between Clark’s legs, shining his flashlight on a crate and attempting to lift it, not caring that Clark was resting on said crates. “I thought I saw something red, if you’re hiding an extra blanket - ”

“I don’t - stop trying to look in my crates!” Clark said, trying to take the flashlight out of Lex's hands. 

They struggle over the flashlight; falling off the crates and onto the ground, where the skirmish only continued. Somehow the flashlight broke and they ended up with only the faint light. 

Lex was on the ground. Clark was on top. To block a blow to his face Clark had raised his suit sleeve to his nose. He groaned. 

“Listen, can you just go back to sleep on the bed?” Clark sighed. “I’ll follow…once I change, so don’t turn around until I say I’m decent?”

Lex nodded and climbed to his feet, ignoring the hand Clark offered. He returned to the bed and faced the wall. 

He waited and listened to the rustle of clothing until there was a soft “I’m decent,” but he didn’t turn around. 

The mattress dipped as a new weight settled upon it. 

Lex turned around. As expected Clark wasn’t facing him and was nearly falling off the bed. He had indeed changed out of his suit. 

“I’m the big spoon.” Lex said. “And I’m going to be pretty ticked off if I wake up in the middle of the night because you fell off the bed.” He added, pulling Clark in closer. 

Clark didn’t resist and he cooperated until his back was touching Lex’s chest. 

“Who knows what time of the night it really is?” Clark said. “And I’m the one who was already woken up in the middle of the night because you thought I was a thief.”

“Are you a thief?” Lex said. “You should come clean if you're lying to me.”

“I’m not.” 

—

Clark looked at himself in the mirror. 

His hair was an unruly, greasy mess. Any product he had on at the beginning was long gone. 

He looked at the blast doors, but they were still closed. He looked at Lex.

Lex was reclining on the bed, his eyes closed in thought. He was stripped to his shorts. He had decided on such an action to preserve against the need to wash clothes, which was emerging as an issue. 

Lex opened his eyes just then, catching Clark staring. 

Clark tried to feign doing stretches. His hair fell over his eyes. 

Lex didn’t fall for it. 

“Like what you see?”

“The surgeons…did a good job.” Clark mumbled. 

“Hmph.” Lex said, getting off the bed and imitating Clark’s stretches. “Sure, but I did important work. It’s easier for them to get the shape right if they have something great to work with. I worked hard to build up what I have - they removed some flesh.” Lex frowned. He looked at his arms, flexing them. “There’s no exercise machines down here and lifting around crates just isn’t working anymore.” Especially since the crates once held food and that was being reduced day by day. 

He had walked over to Clark while he was speaking, and lifted him off the ground suddenly. 

“What - ” Clark stilled, not daring to move while Lex had his arms wrapped around his waist. He could feel his body’s heat through his thin shirt. 

“How are you keeping in shape, Kent?” Lex asked. “I haven’t seen you move around all that much.”

“I’m guess I’m just…naturally muscular.” 

Lex set him down. 

“Lucky you.” 

Clark gasped as he felt his hair being tugged. He was dragged toward the sink. 

“I’m going to wash your hair.” Lex said. 

Clark sat down on the crate in front of the sink. “Isn’t this, um, intimate.” Clark swallowed, because Lex didn’t have a shirt on and his fingers were in his hair. 

“We’ve been stuck here for… “ Lex looked at the marks on the wall. “…a week now. It’s for my comfort as much as yours. Do you think I like seeing your greasy hair?” 

“No…”

“That was a rhetorical question.” Lex said.

Lex released him and jerked his glasses off before Clark could do anything about it. 

“Be careful with those - ” 

Lex tossed them across the air and onto the bed. He turned on the faucet and shoved Clark’s head down with more force than was necessary since he was already lowering his head. 

Armed with a bar of soap, Lex got his fingers into Clark’s hair and massaged his scalp. As Lex worked, Clark’s tension drained away and he even managed to sigh happily. Lex was strong and really using his energy to clean Clark’s hair. 

Clark looked up at the mirror to see himself smiling. It faltered when he realized Lex was looking into the mirror too, his expression unreadable. He was still concentrated on his task, washing Clark's hair. 

“Lower your head again.” Lex said. “So I can rinse.”

Clark obeyed. 

Lex throughly ran his hands through Clark’s hair, guiding the soap suds into the flow of the water and down the sink. Clark didn’t comment if Lex's fingers lingered too long on his neck or his ears. 

Lex toweled him off with a blanket. 

“I’d like to return the favor - ” Clark began. 

“By washing my hair?” Lex interrupted sarcastically. 

—

There was no way to wash clothes but with the sink, and soap. 

It was not ideal for Lex to wash his clothes, the clothes he had entered this place wearing, with plain soap. But there wasn’t anything else. 

“I can wash those for you.” Clark said, looking at the many pieces of clothing Lex had in his arms. His glasses were off. “Though I’m not sure how such materials are suppose to be handled and - ”

“Just wash them.” Lex said, dropping the pile into Clark’s arms. 

“Will do.”


	3. Chapter 3

They had set up a partition. There was a tarp which was tied to a pipe above them that went across the room. It blocked the toilet from sight if one was sitting on the bed. It hung down but didn’t quite each the floor so Lex could see Clark’s bare feet. The water flowed down into the small drain in the ground. Lex had prepared many cans that he had cleaned and filled with water from the sink. They could bathe by pouring the water over themselves. 

While Clark was showering, Lex decided to attempt to check his crates. Again. 

“I thought we agreed not to look in each other’s crates.” Clark said. He had gotten out of the “shower” rather in a hurry and he only had a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist. “What if you’re the one stealing food from my stash? I know I had more peanut butter.”

Lex ignored him and lunged forward to look in another crate. 

Clark took action then and tried to pin Lex against something so he would stop trying to open things but he also didn’t want to hurt him so Clark end up holding him down on the softest thing in the room - the bed. 

“Isn’t this, um, intimate?” Lex repeated Clark's words in a mockery of his voice. “Your towel’s slipping.”

“Stop trying to look through my things.” Clark didn’t even look down. 

“Alright.” Lex said. “Since I know what you were hiding now.”

Clark released him in surprise. 

Arms free, Lex pulled out something from under a blanket on the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me we had these?” He held out the items.

A box of condoms and a tube of lubricant. 

Clark stared. 

“You’re shy - but I’m not. I just showered, you were almost finished showering. Let’s fuck.”

Clark recovered from shock to grab his towel, which really had been slipping. 

“I told you so.” Lex said. 

“We’ve been stuck here with no one else for company except each other,” Clark began. “So your emotions and thoughts are unduly influenced - this is like Stockholm Syndrome or something!”

“You're questioning my sanity?” Lex asked. 

“I’m not, it’s just - ”

“Why would Lex Luthor want to do anything with mild-mannered reporter Clark Kent?” Lex asked. “It’s only because there’s literally no other options, right? What you did just moments ago - pinning me on the bed, that wasn’t very mild-mannered.”

“It wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Anything else you’d like to tell me you’re sorry about?”

Silence. 

“By the way,” Lex said. “Stockholm Syndrome is where the captured has feelings for the captor, not one captive for another. Does this feel like a hostage situation to you? Captives imply a captor - who is keeping us here?”

“The earth.” Clark answered. 

—

“Good morning.” Lex said. 

Clark blinked open his eyes to find himself looking into Lex’s. He was facing him, and their legs were entangled. 

“Or I think it’s morning. I’m pretty sure it is if that’s morning wood.” Lex said, wiggling his leg so the part of Clark that was practically touching it could feel the movement. 

Clark sprung backward like kryptonite was placed before him. 

“I miss the sun.” Clark squeaked in a pathetic attempt to change the topic.

Clark sounded so miserable that Lex decided to offer him a candy bar. However, the way he did it - he had unwrapped it first and did not offer it with an open palm, but had it gripped and held upright, almost touching Clark’s lips.

“This should help cheer you up.” Lex smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing. 

Clark answered with a glare. If looks could kill. 

—

Day twenty one. Three weeks. Clark had stopped asking Lex for updates. He accepted that Lex would tell him if there was anything to tell. 

“What’s for breakfast?” Lex asked.

Clark looked at the pile of cans they had used the day before to build a rather detailed miniature model of LexCorp tower and its neighbor, the Daily Planet. Lex had long combined their foodstuff in a shared pile so Clark wouldn’t perish from lack of food. 

“It would be troublesome.” Lex had said. “To have to deal with a corpse in addition to everything else. And lawsuits.”

“The same old stuff..." Clark answered. "Wouldn’t it be nice if we could touch these - ” Clark touched their work reverently. “And be teleported to the actual buildings?”

“I’m Superman.” Lex said. 

Clark stiffened. 

“Whoosh.” Lex said as he destroyed his collaboration with Clark by punching out the globe at the top of the Daily Planet model with a fist characteristic of the pose Superman used while speeding in flight. 

“Hey!” Clark shouted. But it was already too late. Getting the round globe right had taken much work though Lex had been the one to figure out the engineering. 

Lex just looked smug. That’s what happened when they had been stuck together for weeks now. There was no need to hold back his facial expressions. 

Clark picked up one of the fallen cans. 

He threw it at the “L” that was at the top of the LexCorp tower model. His aim was true and it collapsed, leaving only a “_”. 

“Would you agree, that it’s a lot easier to destroy than to build?” Lex asked.

Clark nodded, looking at the messed up pile of cans that were once a globe. 

“I’d kill for a bowl of spiced venison stew.”

Clark gave him a look. 

“A figure of speech. Obviously.” Lex said. But Lex supposed Clark had a right to give that look, he was, after all, the only person within killing distance.

“I wish I had my mom’s pie. And eggs and toast and bacon and fresh apple juice.”

“I’d kill for cookie dough ice cream.” 

“I wish I had orange sherbet.” 

They continued naming food items they’d either kill for or wish for until they grew sick of it like playing cards or building models.

—

The lights died again like they had on their first day in the shelter. Clark found Lex in the dark. In the short time it took him, the lights returned once again. Lex’s eyes were closed. 

Clark brushed his hand to his pulse and it was a steady thing. Lex was calm - too calm. 

“I wish we had a better generator.” Clark said to fill the silence. 

—

Clark had kept his notebook with him throughout. It had been a fresh one that he had written notes on in relation to the LexCorp weapons facility he was currently underneath. Now he was using it as a diary. He barely used it. There was hardly any privacy to. 

Today, the first thing he had written was: the toilet stopped working. 

He had used pieces of tarp he had said he found but really discreetly cut from the large one that acted as the shower partition, to line a crate, and put a bucket inside it. So it could be sat on. Because while he could aim into a bucket…Lex couldn’t. 

—

Lex was taking out much of the gauze from the first aid kit. He had use for it. 

“You’re hurt?” Clark asked and actually pulled up Lex’s sleeves to check for wounds. He was about to roll up his pants too, probably. Personal space was inversely related to how long they had been in the shelter. 

Lex kicked his arm away. “No, we've been here close to a month now so it was bound to happen.” 

“What happens in…?” Clark stopped before he finished asking because he had made the connection. “Oh.” He rose to his feet. 

“My transformation into a werewolf.” Lex said, continuing to speak anyway. “Superman gets his powers from the sun - but I get mine from the moon…but alas, the moonlight cannot reach me here so my regularly scheduled yearning for blood is missing.” He put the first aid kit away. “Other people’s blood of course. I hate bleeding myself.” 

—

“What do you think happened to everyone up there?” Clark asked.

"They might be dead.” Lex said. “Or if they’re alive…I’ll make them wish they weren’t.”

Clark offered no judgmental commentary. 

“I’m firing them all.”

—

The air followed the toilet. 

Clark noticed before Lex did. 

“It’s faint…” Clark said, standing on the sink and holding his palm over a vent. 

“At least it’s not completely dead.” Lex said without sarcasm. 

He helped Clark as he climbed down but Lex couldn’t quite keep his own limbs steady. 

“Lex?” Clark asked once his feet was back on the ground. They were long on a first name basis by now, considering their situation.

“I wonder if I’ll actually die.” Lex said. 

Then the air died. So did the lights.

—

“Maybe the lights are out…because the energy is being redirected to the air system?” Clark said though he had no idea how it actually worked and he was saying bullshit but he wanted to speak. He wanted to break the silence though he didn’t know why. Lex’s pulse was calm, just like last time but his behavior still felt off. 

“I was…afraid of the dark.” Clark said. “When I was little.” Maybe if he took in the fears by admitting to them... but Lex wasn’t afraid of the dark. He knew that. 

He held Lex’s gloveless hands. Lex didn’t return the grip though his fingers twitched. Clark rubbed them gently because what were boundaries when they had pissed in the same bucket for a week now and a shared a bed for even longer?

“I had a nightlight, and when it broke or its light had to be changed...I cried until my dad arrived to fix it.” Clark continued. 

“Hmm.” Lex said at this piece of information. “Am I suppose to offer something personal up as well?”

“No. Not if you don’t want to.” Clark said. “I don’t like tight, small spaces either. I much prefer open areas.” 

“Then staying in this room must be hell for you.” Lex said. “And it’s not completely true that you don’t like “tight, small spaces,” is it?”

There was something blatantly filthy, suggestive and _certain_ in those words when Lex said it, though Clark hadn’t intended them in that way at all but before Clark could say anything, Lex spoke again. 

“If I was buried alive in here. My body will probably never be recovered.” Lex said. “And that’s good.” 

“Good…?”

“I would prefer it if my suit was in better condition, but no one can find my body - and put it in a dress.” 

“Why would they do that?”

“My father already has a gravestone with my birth name on it.” Lex said. “He’s had it for a long time.”

Clark was close - he practically had Lex in his embrace. 

Lex accepted it and returned it with force, gripping Clark to the point of pain. 

There was the sound of a blast outside the walls. Small pieces of material and dust fell from the ceiling and down on them. 

“My biggest regret,” Lex said. “Would be if I didn’t outlive him. And Clark?” Lex looked upward. “If those missiles went off…” He put his lips by Clark’s ear. “…it’s our duty to repopulate the planet.”

Clark's breath hitched and he immediately released Lex, starting with his hands. 

Lex could hear crates being moved in the dark. 

Right at that moment the systems all returned to life and the doors were opening.

Superman was in the room. He gave Lex a furious look before he impatiently cut open the doors with red beams from his eyes, because they were opening too slowly. Then he dashed right out in a blur. Lex heard a sound that was probably him blasting into the elevator and through the top, flying up the shaft instead of using said elevator. 

Lex sighed and waited for Superman’s inevitable return.

He does come back. His arms were crossed. He was trying to look righteously angry but the effect was ruined by his apparent nervousness. 

“The missiles aren't actually capable of - ”

“Of course not. But that’s what finally got you to act.” Lex said. “And I keep the actual ones elsewhere.”

Superman couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. 

“I had my memory back for awhile now.” Lex said calmly, in the middle of finishing a can of peaches. “I remembered Smallville. I remembered everything.” He tossed aside the empty can. “I know we're exes. Now get me out of here, Clark.” 

Lex Luthor found himself piggybacking on Superman and being flown up the elevator shaft he had rode down over a month ago. 

Superman set him down at his penthouse. 

“A month.” Lex said once he was safely on ground. “You could have gotten us out at anytime, those doors are nothing to you - but it was still more important to you to keep your secret from me.” Lex growled. “I thought you would crack after I sabotaged the toilet.”

Lex walked inside and turned on the kryptonite defense systems before Clark could respond or follow. 

He had a lot of catching up to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: angst, exhibitionism (of a symbolic not actual sexual act in public), gun play, gun violence,

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Lex asked the person seated across the dinner table. 

“Yes…it was a very relaxing week.” Clark answered. 

Clark had been put on paid leave from the Daily Planet. A week to recover from his ordeal. But LexCorp had footed the bill to send him somewhere nice. 

After all, Clark had suffered on LexCorp property. And the official story was that the ill-maintained doors and elevator tunnel malfunctioning and collapsing respectively was what had kept them trapped. 

“As opposed to the month before it.” Lex had taken a picture with his phone of what the shelter had looked like after a month of being occupied. It was a reminder of what he could survive, and how the world could survive without him. 

Clark nodded, his hands clasped together and his body withdrawn. His body language clearly reading that he was nervous and uncertain about the situation he was in. 

“I see you had plenty of sun.” Lex said, examining Clark in the dim glow of candles. 

Clark nodded again. 

“Those forms you signed before I allowed you to set foot on the facility? You gave up the right to sue on anything that happened so don’t even think of doing it.” 

“I didn’t. Won’t.”

“Or to speak of what happened.”

“I’m sorry about what happened. I should have gotten us out of there sooner and - ”

“That’s all water under the bridge.” Lex interrupted. “We’re back out in the world. I know. You know I know.” 

“…What are you going to do to me?” Clark asked in a half-whisper. 

“Ask you questions related to our adventure, and you’ll answer them, truthfully,” Lex said. “…After you ask me questions about what happened.” 

Clark blinked. 

Lex gestured at the food set on the table. “Eat first.” An echo what he had said that first day, setting cans aside for Clark. But now the food before them was rich and freshly cooked. “It’s all covered already.”

Clark attempted to eat, at first lacking appetite but eating with more gusto as the dishes before him were delicious and hearty compared to the fare he had for a month. 

Lex ate too and for a while there was nothing but the clinking of glasses or utensils on plates. 

“Was the entire thing a trap to get me to reveal myself to you?” Clark asked, setting down his fork.

“Yes.”

“Would you have gotten us out if I had told you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you control the lights, air - life support systems…somehow?”

“Yes.” Lex held up his phone. “I had an app.”

Clark groaned. “But not all of it was your doing, right? Towards the end…”

Lex gave him a blank look. “I was in control the entire time.”

“Why did you wash my hair?”

“I was thinking of drowning you in the sink and having my fingers around your neck instead of your hair.”

Not exactly an answer but Lex had said Clark had to give the truths while responding, not him. 

“Why did you…open my shirt…in the dark?” Clark asked, blushing at the memory.

“I was trying to find your costume.” Lex said. 

“Oh...are you still angry with me?”

“Time’s up - it’s my turn to ask questions.” Lex said, ignoring his question. “Where exactly were you hiding your costume?”

“…In a crate. At first.”

“Be more specific.” Lex growled. 

“At some point, I used my powers to bury it under the concrete while you were sleeping.” Clark said. “I checked to see that it was even but to be sure I placed crates over the spot.”

“That first day. You apologized in your sleep - whatever for?” Lex asked, changing the topic.

Clark was caught off-guard. “I…was apologizing for…I…”

“You better not lie.”

“I spilled coffee on your shoes in my dream.” 

“…That’s it?” Such a thing, so little compared to the others. 

“Your shoes were expensive and it was hot coffee…” Clark said. “An accident, I swear!”

Clark was defending himself on something he did in a dream, not what he did in life. Lex snorted. “I need more context.” 

Clark squirmed. “I was at work - ”

“So in the dream we were inside the Daily Planet?”

“Yes…and it was early in the morning so I was having coffee as one does…” Clark said. “...and I ended up accidentally spilling it on your shoes…”

“What was my reaction?” Lex asked. “…Did anyone witness you spilling coffee on my shoes?”

“The coffee temperature didn’t seem to bother you…but you were angry.” Clark had his eyes closed and his was face turning red. “Lois, Jimmy and even the Editor-in-Chief Perry White saw…and so did everyone in the bullpen because we were standing in the middle of it.”

“There’s more isn’t there? Tell me everything.” Lex said suspiciously. 

Clark covered his face with his hands, so his next words came out muffled but intelligible. “You told me to…lick up the mess I made…so I did. I got on the ground and I cleaned it all up…with my mouth. I sucked until your leather shoes were shiny. And you stepped on me too, because I was already down there…everyone I work with watched.” He lowered his hands and opened his eyes so he could attempt to read Lex’s reaction. 

“Hmm.” Lex said, a non-comment. “I remembered having a dream too.”

Clark tilted his head - curiosity partially replacing embarrassment. 

“I had you laid out on a table.” Lex said. 

Clark wasn’t quite sure how to react yet. 

“There was a knife in my hand.”

Clark frowned. 

“I cut in, and you squirmed.”

“You dreamed of dissecting me while I was alive?”

“No.”

“You dreamed of dissecting me while I was a zombie?”

“No.” 

“You - ”

“Stop interrupting, when did I say my dream was about dissecting you?” 

Confusion crossed Clark’s face. “You didn’t.”

“Let’s see, it was weeks into our quality time together.” 

Clark cringed at the obvious sarcasm.

“And I longed for real food. In my dream, I had the delicacies I so missed - I was eating them off your nude body.”

Clark dropped the morsel he picked up in surprise. He flushed and ducked his head like that was enough to disappear from sight. 

“You squirmed because the knife I was using to cut across the steak grazed your chest.” Lex said. “The thing about dreams is that in it you could get hurt, and I didn’t have kryptonite - the bit of blood added...an interesting flavor.” Lex smiled; showing his teeth.

“But...you weren’t dissecting me. That’s good.” Clark said, unnerved. His heart rate increasing wasn't all from fear. 

“I didn’t dissect you. I played with your nipples while licking up some sauce and then I got my mouth on your dick.” 

Clark choked on the water he was drinking.

“Because you were a good plate and stayed still - for the most part, like I told you to.” Lex got up and walked over to Clark who was nearly, but not quite recovered from coughing. 

“It sounded like you did a good job cleaning up my shoes in your dream,” Lex said. “But I’m sure I gave head better in mine.”

He looked at the Clark’s evident bulge, emphasized by shadows. He made eye contact with Clark, and instead of closing his legs, he spread them further. 

Lex braced a hand on the table and put a foot down on the seat of his chair, between his legs. Then Lex lifted his foot and lowered it down on Clark’s crotch, pressing down slightly and causing him to moan. 

“When?” Lex asked. “While you were recalling your dream or when I was recalling mine?”

“The moment you started sipping your Scotch.” Clark gasped. “I thought about spilling it and sucking it off your shoes.”

“That would be a waste of good Scotch.” Lex said, applying more pressure. “We’ve already eaten so why don’t I just skip to sucking your cock?” Lex got his foot off the seat so he could kneel on the ground. He unbuttoned Clark’s pants and pulled the zipper down, tugging the trousers down along with the underwear - revealing the hard length. 

“I-I’d like you to.” Clark stammered. 

“Then stand up.” Lex said, doing so himself. He took off Clark’s glasses and set them down on the table. 

Clark stood and it was awkward as his falling clothing clung to his ankles, but Lex guided him until Clark’s back hit a wall. 

Lex returned to his knees. He made eye contact with Clark, there were no glasses to block the directness, and pressed a gentle kiss to the cock, surprising Clark, who let out a soft breath. 

He licked at the shaft and its tip with his tongue, warming Clark with his saliva before taking him into his mouth. Lex began to prove his memory was recovered. He recalled what Clark liked, where he was sensitive, how to use his teeth during - because Clark actually _enjoyed_ the use of it. 

Lex could read Clark’s body language, and knew what would happen even before Clark said his name. He swallowed the fluid that shot into his mouth, briefly distracted from the taste by the holes in the wall that had not been there previously. 

Lex stood up, smirking, and pushed the chair forward for Clark to collapse on. 

“You’re right - better - ” Clark managed to say. He licked his lips, his eyes bright. 

“That’s coherent of you.” 

“I’d like to return the favor - ” Clark was reaching for Lex’s glass of Scotch. 

Those words. Wasn’t this familiar. “But you can’t. You can’t wash my hair like you can’t suck my cock right back.” Lex lifted the glass before Clark could. “You’ve already ruined much of my clothes. I’m not letting you wreck my shoes too.” Indeed, the integrity of Lex’s old set of clothing had been compromised after multiple washes with bar soap.

“Sorry…” Clark brought his hands back to his sides. 

Lex lifted the filled glass to his face before placing it on the table again. 

Clark looked at him quizzically. 

“I’m not letting the taste be washed away yet.” 

It was amusing to see Clark pretend to be shy, like he didn’t have a desire to lick Scotch off Lex’s shoes. 

“Get on your knees.” Lex said. 

Clark does, getting out of the chair. He walked and knelt in the same place in by the wall he had stood moments ago. 

Lex walked up to him. “There is something you can suck for me.” Lex pulled out a handgun from a pocket tailored to conceal it. 

Clark used his x-ray vision. It was loaded. Lead bullets. He couldn’t see into them. 

Lex pointed the gun at Clark’s face. 

There was the sound of a click - the safety being turned off. 

Clark opened his mouth. Not to ask a question. He just held his mouth open. 

Lex nudged the cold metal teasingly against his lips; his finger ready on the trigger. 

He slowly put the gun into Clark’s mouth. Lex watched his tongue adjust to the intrusive metal and his white teeth skim the top of the handgun. 

Then Clark began to suck the gun like it was actually a cock. Wrapped his lips around it, took more of it into his mouth, held it under his tongue. He moaned around the gun and Lex felt the vibrations as the wielder. 

Lex watched Clark’s square jaw at work. He pulled the gun back out, but not fully. He rested it on Clark’s lower lip. 

Clark stuck the tip of his tongue into the barrel of the gun. The motion was brief, right after he lowered his tongue so he could take the weapon back in again. 

Lex pressed the trigger. 

He emptied the entire clip, all of it, into Clark’s mouth. 

The force of the bullets hitting the inside of his mouth sent his head knocking into wall. Clark stared in shock as Lex tugged the gun out of his mouth. 

“You should _remember_ that you’re a fucking _alien_ , Kal-El.” Lex said. He glanced at the shiny, saliva slicked gun in his hand. “Because I certainly do.” He turned on the safety and pulled his arm back before swinging with such force that the gun shattered upon impact with Clark’s face. 

Lex knelt until he was eye level with Clark. “I could have sworn I hit you.” Lex whispered before Clark could recover from the blow, or finish swallowing the spent rounds. “You idiot - letting me stick a gun in your mouth, what if I hadn’t used regular lead bullets, but kryptonite bullets encased by lead?” 

“If you did, I'd be - I'd be dead.”

Lex’s hand was bleeding from cuts he had received while breaking the gun. He caressed Clark’s cheek, smearing the blood on Clark as he surged forward and pulled him into a kiss. His other hand was in Clark’s hair, tugging it, fingers digging into the scalp. Lex thrust his tongue inside and licked around Clark’s mouth - tasting lead, salt, and chemicals. He kissed until breathing became hard and Clark didn’t pull away but returned the intensity, allowing his mouth to be invaded, licked and his tongue bit. 

Lex broke the kiss first. He stood up and picked up his Scotch, downing all that was in the glass. In the meantime Clark had stood up. He shook his head and plucked the empty glass from Lex’s hands, placing it on the table. He was behind Lex, his chest touching Lex’s back. Infuriatingly, he was back to a level of personal space that had been seen in the underground shelter. Clark dared to rest his head on Lex’s shoulder. He whispered into his ear. “You can’t drive responsibly right now, so let me take you back to your place, alright?”

Lex laughed. “I’m going to break that glass on your face too.” Lex said, but instead of reaching for said glass he turned around and leaned on Clark’s back, wrapping his arms around his neck, and attempting to pull up his feet to wrap them around Clark’s waist. His bloody hand rested against Clark's chest. “This is not the position I want us to be in, Clark.” Lex said.

Clark wondered what Lex meant by “position”. But he couldn’t ask. Lex had nodded off - the weariness of someone who had likely attempted to catch up with a month's worth of work in a week. 

Clark flew Lex back to his penthouse and tucked him in. As he finished bandaging up Lex's hand, Lex opened his eyes. 

“Good night, Clark.” Lex said. He blinked at his bandaged hand before reaching out with it and pressing a nearby button. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too, Lex.” Clark said, leaving before the kryptonite defense system really kicked into gear.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are loved.


End file.
